Interlude: Between the First and Second Day
by THElaughingUNIVERSE
Summary: Bast has been keeping a secret from his teacher.


Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the world, they belong to Patrick Rothfuss, subtle genius that he is. If you have not read The Name of the Wind put it on your list of things to do before you die. Because it isn't just fantasy foof to pass the time, it's good literature and you might learn something. Also, you will be confused if you read this without the benefit of the novel it is based on. Also, if you read the last three pages of the book before reading this you will get more out of it.  
Warning: This is Kvothe/Bast. Thus, this is slash.  
The Title: The Subtitle of Rothfuss's book is The Kingkiller Chronicle: Day One. The book takes place within the first day of Kvothe's narration of his life, presumably the second book will be day two. This is meant to come in between them, hence the title.

Interlude - Between the First and Second Day.

With all of his experiences in his short life, Kvothe had never expected to discover a secret on his way to take a piss. He was surprised when he walked past Chronicler's room and heard Bast's voice from within. He could hear the sharp corners of anger and the almost musical hissing of a demon's voice. Bast was threatening Chronicler, and he meant business. Kvothe pulled away from the door and left the hallway. Even curiosity couldn't stifle the more human urge he felt at the moment.

* * *

Chronicler was sleeping when Kvothe stepped impolitely though the door. He shut it behind him and locked it. The man shot up in his bed, hair and eyes in disarray. He stared at Kvothe for a long moment, the fear leaving his face.

"Ah...yes?" he asked.

Kvothe walked the length of the room and stood at the foot of the bed.

"This is my inn so I don't need to sneak in the window when I wish to speak with my guests." The fear partially returned. Chronicler glanced sideways at the window and licked his lips. He shrugged helplessly and shook his head. "What did Bast say to you?"

"Nothing important."

"A man of words such as yourself should be able to lie better than that. I heard his voice through the door and it was not his human tones. He threatened you."

"He did sir." Now the Chronicler seemed truly worried. He sat himself up against the headboard. "And I imagine he would not take kindly to my expressing those threats and reasons to you."

Kvothe moved his hands impatiently. "How many stories have you heard about Kvothe the Kingkiller? Kvothe the Bloodless? Kvothe the Arcane?"

"Many and terrible." Chronicler replied.

"How many have you heard of Bast the demon?"

"Why, none." The man grew paler and swallowed. Kvothe nodded in the manner of one satisfied with another man's understanding.

"Just so you fully understand who you would be angering here Chronicler. Speak. What did my apprentice say?"

"He asked me to keep you dwelling on happy moments if I could. He told me not to ask questions about your music or your sympathy."

Kvothe blinked. His agitated hands grew still. There, in the shadows for a moment, he appeared as a very different creature from Kvothe the Kingkiller or Kote the innkeeper. There was Kvothe, a young man still, and an honest friend, presented with a problem he had not anticipated.

"Did he say why?" the questions had lost their demand. Chronicler answered anyway.

"He said he wanted his Reshi back. Actually he seemed very upset by the idea of losing the teacher he must remember. For a moment I thought he might cry. And if I did not know better I should think he was in love with you some way or another."

Kvothe's dark gaze silenced the Chronicler. The young man gone; the legend in his place again. Kvothe stood still.

"I understand that Bast owns you in at least two ways." he said. "You ate with him and he saved your life. That is powerful to his kind and I urge you not to take his threats lightly. However you may weigh this one heavier. He is _my_ apprentice. You might ask yourself which of us is likely to be the most dangerous. I will not interfere with his demands until I see I need to. But you will not bend to his requests before you bend to mine." Kvothe walked from the room leaving the sleepy Chronicler puzzled in his wake.

Kvothe had made no requests that the man could decipher.

* * *

Bast was not asleep. He was brooding near his window in the dark. Kvothe approached him without fear of being unwelcome. He stood in silence with his apprentice for a while, watching the moon.

Finally Bast began to fidget.

"If you're waiting for me to speak first I might remind you that _you_ came to _me._" he said.

"There were several warnings that I gave to you before I agreed to take you on as an apprentice." Kvothe did not look at his companion.

"Yes. Most of which I ignored. All of which I have suffered trouble for."

"It seems I failed to anticipate some of that trouble Bast. I am sorry."

Bast turned away from the window, leaning against the wood of the sill. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and cocked his head sideways.

"Do you mean earlier? In the bar when Chronicler used iron against me? That was hardly real tr-"

"I do not mean." Kvothe interrupted. He was leaning on his hands now like a man in grief. He took a great inhale and pulled himself upright turning to Bast. Bast, for his part, did not move, he stayed frozen like a terrified rabbit in a net. Kvothe pulled Bast forward gently with one hand behind his neck, and kissed his apprentice on the mouth.

He had done this before, this and other things. The young man had never protested, had initiate the contact to begin with, but Kvothe had never been so still through a kiss before. Because of that he noticed things. He noticed how soft Bast was with his hands, how gentle he was, always was. He noticed the small shiver and the slight holding in Bast's breath.

Kvothe pulled away, holding Bast's head in his hands still.

"Reshi, what is wrong?"

"Bast, are you in love with me?" Bast fell into his unnatural stillness, staring into the face of his teacher. Kvothe moved his hand through the dark hair, brushing it to the side of the pale forehead. "Answer me."

"You would not ask like this if you didn't already know."

"But you must know that I do not think myself capable of loving you so in return. As a friend, as an apprentice...yes. Bast I am sorry, I thought it was only a comfort between us." Bast pulled away slowly, untangling his teacher's hand from his hair. He smiled in the same careful way he had kissed.

"People don't love people to be loved in return, Reshi. They fall in love because they can't help it. You know that. I'm sorry you figured it out. I meant to keep it from you. I knew you would blame yourself." Bast stepped away from the window. He did not make a point of avoiding Kvothe's gaze, but he did not make a point of meeting it either. "Try not to, if you can." he said. Then he sat down heavily on his bed, letting his hands fall between his knees. He spoke over his shoulder to Kvothe, sitting with a straight back, without a bowed head. Bast would not cry until his master had left the room. "I will sleep now if you will let me."

Kvothe did not apologize again. He didn't speak. He left the room and carried his heavy silence with him. He closed the door softly and laid his palm against it. He allowed a few tears to roll from his eyes and let gravity toss them from his cheek to the floor. Then he went upstairs to the small room where he kept his ruined memoirs and lit a candle.


End file.
